


Airs

by yeaka



Category: Maleficent (2014)
Genre: M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-05
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-09-06 15:08:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8757502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Diaval meets with the captain of the guards.





	

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Fill for “Praise” square on [my bingo card](http://yeaka.tumblr.com/post/149673766130/fic-bingo).
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Maleficent or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s a good deal farther from the castle than he would like, and _walking_ was never really natural to him anyway. By the time he reaches the right hill, the high sun has him sweating in places he didn’t even know he had. He’ll never get used to just _skin_ without the delicate cover of feathers. 

When he spots the captain of Aurora’s guards amidst the towering grass, he calls, “Picked far enough away, did you?”

“Sorry,” the captain calls back, glancing down through the green blades. His voice is deep and sultry, his eyes soft, his clothes down to a simple tunic and slacks—it’s his day off. And when he’d asked to spend it with Diaval, Diaval had hoped it would be somewhere nice, like a banquet in the grand hall or a swim all the way back in the Moors. But the captain has the audacity to comment, “You couldn’t fly?”

Diaval bristles. He finally reaches the captain’s side and hisses through grit teeth, “That isn’t how it works.” The captain’s dark face dips into a frown. 

Diaval takes his seat anyway, because he’s too exhausted to stand any longer. He doesn’t mind a hop here and there, but from the way the captain first coed at him for a chance to really _talk_ , Diaval pictured this moment a lot more glamorous. But that’s what he gets for following a flicker of interest in _humans_.

But then, Aurora is human, and Diaval regrets his judgment as soon as he’s thought it. He lowers himself properly to the ground like the captain, letting the soft earth be his bed and supposes, at least, that a trip into nature wasn’t too poor a guess for a bird. He does enjoy watching the sky. 

Of course, if he were in his other form, his _proper_ form: “I could be up there instead, you know.”

“So I hear,” the captain says, though his gaze isn’t on the clouds. “It’s an amazing feat.”

Diaval snorts. “More than that.” He can feel the captain watching him in the corner of his eye, and he rolls his head aside accordingly, connecting their gaze, so he can make it more poignant when he insists, “The body I fly in is _exquisite._ This shell is... is...” He doesn’t even have the words, just gestures vaguely down his torso. The captain’s eyes flicker to his hand, then rise again.

“It’s a nice enough body,” he counters.

Diaval’s brows draw sharply together. “Nice _enough_?”

When Maleficent sneers, armies _run_. But like her, the captain doesn’t show any fear at Diaval’s scowl. If anything, he looks as though trying to quickly stifle a grin. He tries again, “A good one, then. Nice and strong.” Diaval wrinkles his nose, only marginally appeased.

Maybe the captain can see that, because he goes on, “Attractive, too.” That drops the malice from Diaval’s eyes—that’s what he wants. He comes from a place of _sheer beauty._ The captain lifts a hand to point along the dull curves of Diaval’s cheekbones, drawling as he illustrates, “Quite a handsome face, a solid jaw, those intricate little details on the sides—it never hurts to have uniqueness in art.”

 _Art_. Diaval’s certainly that. It does make him loosen somewhat, and he spares the captain a faint smile. Perhaps it wasn’t such a bad idea that he get to know those surrounding Aurora, after all. And it certainly can’t hurt to have the man in charge of her safety revere the man she respects most. The captain points a finger straight between Diaval’s eyes. It’s almost strange now to see that hand bereft of armour. They were like his... _feathers._ “Such deep eyes, too. A man could get lost in those.”

A man has, it seems. Diaval arches a brow, indicating he wants _more_. The captain seems to take the silent hint and reaches farther, until his blunt fingernails are raking back through Diaval’s back hair, brushing a few fallen strands away from his face and back behind his ear. “Such enticing hair,” the captain sighs appreciatively. “Like fine silk.” His hand lingers when it’s done, gently cradling the back of Diaval’s skull. It occurs to Diaval just how very _close_ he chose to lie next to the captain. He can feel the heat of the captain’s body, greater than the pull of the sun. The captain continues, “This body, even if it is not your first choice, is still the most—”

He cuts abruptly off, just as Diaval’s swooped in to brush his lips along the captain’s neck. He lets out an annoyed growl at the cut off sentence but finishes his kiss nonetheless. He lingers a moment after to inhale the distinctly _human_ scent mingled with the dry earth and crushed grass. He’s already turned himself to face the captain, lying on his side, one hand having fallen to the captain’s shoulder. But now he pulls back enough to catch the captain’s eyes and ask with no small degree of annoyance, “Why’d you stop?”

The captain gives Diaval a _look_ as though _he’s_ done something unreasonable. But he went for the captain’s throat rather than mouth for a reason. He leans in again to nip at the captain’s stubbly chin, and it seems to shock the captain back to life. He turns suddenly to try and corner Diaval’s mouth, but Diaval pulls out of reach and mutters, “Don’t stop now; I liked hearing how beautiful I am.”

The captain actually _laughs_. But he can laugh all he wants so long as he gives Diaval the praise he deserves. The captain says, “Very well. I was going to say I think you’re the most alluring person I’ve ever met.”

Diaval nods in approval and rolls right on top of the captain, setting in with what feels _right_ for this body, and rewarding each compliment he’s given.


End file.
